#Bedside Testing

[creativeera]

Point of Care Diagnostics: Revolutionizing Healthcare with Real-Time Testing

The Advent of Quick and Accurate Medical Testing Point of Care Diagnostics have emerged as a groundbreaking development in the medical field by enabling accurate testing to be done quickly and conveniently. Traditional diagnostic methods usually require samples to be sent to a centralized laboratory for analysis, which can delay vital treatment decisions by several days. However, point-of-care tests provide results within minutes using portable devices, bringing testing closer to the patient. This revolutionary approach is transforming healthcare delivery. Rapid Testing for Better Patient Outcomes By facilitating timely diagnosis, point-of-care testing leads to better patient outcomes. Speedy detection of conditions like infections or chronic diseases allows doctors to prescribe appropriate treatment without delay. For example, point-of-care tests are commonly used in emergency rooms to quickly identify heart attacks, strokes or life-threatening infections. Getting fast diagnostic results is crucial for such medical emergencies as it ensures patients receive the right therapy as soon as possible. The timely administration of antibiotics, anti-clotting medications or other critical treatments improves survival rates and recovery. Patient Comfort and Convenience Besides clinical benefits, Point of Care Diagnostics enhance patient comfort and convenience. People no longer have to wait anxiously for days to learn about their health while potentially worsening conditions go untreated. With devices that analyze samples on-site, patients get actionable results during the same clinical visit when treatment decisions are made. This spares them follow-up trips to the doctor or lab and unnecessary stress. Home testing using self-administered point-of-care kits even allows monitoring health remotely while maintaining independence. Finger-prick blood samples or urine specimens are all that's needed, eliminating difficulties obtaining specimens. More Efficient Use of Resources Speedy diagnostic testing optimizes use of limited healthcare resources. Quick turnaround times avoid unnecessary reliance on expensive treatments initiated just to address uncertainty in diagnoses. Point-of-care devices reduce laboratory workloads too by decentralizing testing. Moreover, decentralized testing is vital for resource-constrained settings like rural areas, refugee camps or developing countries where access to centralized labs is limited. Portable devices overcome infrastructure barriers and enable basic medical services even in remote areas. This promotes healthcare equity globally. A Proliferation of Diagnostic Platforms Rapid technological progress has enabled the development of varied point-of-care testing systems. Examples include paper microfluidic devices, electrochemical sensors, molecular diagnostics platforms and portable ultrasound machines integrated with imaging analysis software. Immunology-based tests detecting proteins or antibodies through lateral flow or microarray methods are commonly used for conditions like infections and cardiac markers. Molecular diagnostic platforms employ techniques like polymerase chain reaction (PCR) for swift nucleic acid amplification and analysis of viruses or genetic markers. Newer technologies like CRISPR gene editing also hold promise as a basis for point-of-care genetic testing. With ongoing research, the types of conditions examinable at the point of care continue expanding in scope and complexity. Get more insights on Point Of Care Diagnostics

Also read related article on Gastroesophageal Reflux Disease Treatment Devices Market

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About Author:

Money Singh is a seasoned content writer with over four years of experience in the market research sector. Her expertise spans various industries, including food and beverages, biotechnology, chemical and materials, defense and aerospace, consumer goods, etc. (https://www.linkedin.com/in/money-singh-590844163)

[a-noodle-named-daemon]

Deep cleaned Daemon’s terrarium today and he provided some very helpful assistance 👷

[thebeesforeleg]

Okay listen, I know I already wrote a fic about this, but I just love McCoy and Xenopolycythemia, and apparently 13k words weren’t enough to get my point across.

I don’t think McCoy just gets to accidentally find out he has xenopolycythemia. The real equivalent, Polycythemia Vera, is often diagnosed via exclusion, meaning you see signs that could suggest a lot of different diseases, and you slowly rule out the causes that you can test for until you are left with one option.

So McCoy doesn’t get to just suddenly find out he’s dying. He has to intentionally march towards it, each step removing more treatable diagnoses that he doesn’t have. It’s a conscious choice he has to make, and it’s slow. His chances get worse the more he continues, but he keeps going anyways, and when the last test result comes back, he’s ruled out every other disease. He’s left with nothing but Xenopolycythemia. And I think it’s more painful for him that way. He has to be an active participant in his death sentence.

[rookeryyy]

i mightve made the fatal mistake of thinking and talking too hard about yttd again. Gin Ibushi Webfishing

[marc--chilton]

(mgv) what if chase. what if chase cautiously introduced himself to house and wilson's pup as her (their first pup is a girl) big brother. he barely glances up to see house's reaction for fear of ridicule but house just snorts. "you're an idiot" he says but he doesn't correct chase either.

[baixue-temple]

writing up an elaborate and indulgent headcanon for myself of two kids bumping into each other.

One's a human, a quiet and serious kid who's always got his head in books which his rich family happily provides, doesn't take much interest of the outside world -- until the other kid shows up behind his family's estate. He's bloody, he's scared out of his mind. Oh and he's a demon.

Human kid is intrigued. He's gone his whole life hearing about demons being the thing of nightmares. But this one's just kind of a small kid? Practically a baby? Hissing and blue and full of fangs, sure, but normal otherwise. He's seen grosser things in his dad's study.

He's very torn. His family says demons are dangerous, and that's probably true. But his father says that medicine is a long-honored tradition in their house, and that's also true. So he goes 50/50 and rolls a bottle of medicine over at the demon. Partially because he wants to help (and partially because he's just curious to see what'll happen when he drinks it).

The demon kid takes it. Looks at it warily, like someone who's learning that kindness can't be trusted. And then darts into the bushes and never appears again.

It's not for hours until the human kid finds out that half the city has been hunting an ice demon for hours, trying to capture and kill it before it can hurt anyone. He never does find out what happened in the end so all the boy can think about is how frustrating it is that he didn't get to see if his guess had been correct.

It's that annoyance, that lack of knowing, that sticks with him. How are demons different anyway? How does it work? None of his family's more practical medical journals even say. He wants to know more. Soon his original curiosity fades to the back of his mind, but his interest in increasingly spiritual medicine only grows until finally there's only one place left that can teach him more.

And that's why Mu Qingfang doesn't get quite as freaked out as he knows he should be when Mobei-Jun appears from the shadows of his office to kidnap him on behalf of his grief-ridden lord.

[lizbethborden]

The only thing I need in a movie is Stanley Tucci. Sold. Oscar

[fisheito]

Imagine you have to set up yakumo's enclosure for the next couple months. How do you set it up and what do you put in there?

oh NO.! THE PROPPHECY HAS BEenm FUFILLED

i am standing in my room, leggies rooted to the floor. i am in shock .frozen and i have no idea how to proceed. there is a perpetual pathetically sobbing serpent under my blankie.

[cobra-creampuff]

i have a pulmonary functioning test at ass o'clock tomorrow morning, which i'm sure will be fine as far as the test goes but also doctors are basically just cops who don't need guns to kill people because their egos are so big they can do the job with that alone To Me lmao, so i'm deeply dreading it just because if they don't find the one (1) specific thing they're looking for they will simply decide it's nothing and i'll be stuck with an incredibly common, easy to diagnose, and completely curable with a single procedure disease presenting with literally textbook symptoms for fourteen fucking years. AGAIN. lol.

[rainbowsandchocolate]

Lucy has now received blood transfusions from 3 different people but hasn't had any adverse effects, yet. So, I wanted to know if this allows us to figure out her most likely blood type.

I used frequency data from 2023 because I didn't find any from 1897 and I am limiting myself to ABO and Rhesus D+/- here. Other blood types could also lead to adverse reactions, but I don't have data to do that maths.

According to Wikipedia the frequeny of blood types in the UK is as follows: 48% O, 38% A, 11% B and 3% AB. As Van Helsing is Dutch we also look at that data: 45% O, 43% A, 9% B and 3% AB. In the UK 76% are Rhesus+, in the Netherlands 85%. (The list does show the exact distribution for all subtypes but I want those separately).

Now, I thought this calculation was going to be more interesting, but I realised they are in fact transfusing whole blood. That means the blood groups have to actually be identical, because the donor plasma would otherwise contain antibodies for Lucy's erythrocytes. So, O is not a universal donor and AB is not a universal recipient. Therefore, we can conclude that are most likely all group O as that is the most common.

Rhesus is a little more interesting as the blood does not naturally contain any antibodies. That means if Lucy was Rh- she could receive Rh+ blood once but no more (this is relevant in pregnancy, check out Rh-Disease which might have been why Catherine from Aragon only had one child.) This also means that if Lucy was Rh+ (which is more likely due to frequency), she could also receive O- blood.

So, in conclusion, my maths ended up kinda boring but ultimately it means Lucy probably has O+ blood and the others have O- or O+. A is also quite likely, everything else would be a huge coincidence.

Still, even with O+ as a given, the chances of 3 successful transfusions aren't great. To be precise 0.48²×0.45=10.4%.

[cumironi]

ARE YOU A GOOD GIRL? jjk men.

feat. gojo, geto, nanami, toji, sukuna, shiu, higuruma

sum. d!ck inside, gasp and moan filling the room. your boyfriend pays you a visit and one praise they have you cum just in a second, and what do they do? oh, i’m gonna ruin you with that’ they said.

warning. non-sorcerer! jjk men, established 23 you & 31 them, praise kink, petname(s), name-calling(s), overstimulated, dirty talk,

GOJO SATORU

your dorm room was dim, just the amber glow of your bedside lamp flickering against the walls and casting shadows that danced with the rhythm of your bodies. his shirt was tossed somewhere by your desk chair, your panties slung haphazardly over your open textbook—because of course gojo had bent you over your desk first, saying something like “might as well break in your study spot properly, baby.”

but now you were on the bed, flat on your back, his silver hair a messy halo as he hovered over you, hips grinding into yours at a slow, relentless pace. skin hot and sticky, your legs trembling around his waist, your breath coming out in ragged little gasps.

“look at you,” he rasped, sweat dripping down his temple as he dragged his cock out to the tip, just to slam it back in. “fuck, baby—you’re taking me so good.”

your nails clawed at his back. “s-satoru—!”

he groaned at the way your voice cracked, the way you clenched down on him so tight the second he said something nice. “mm? what was that? you like that? like being told how good you are for me?”

your walls fluttered around him. violently.

his eyes widened.

“oh my god,” he said, stilling completely inside you. “no fuckin’ way.”

you were already whining, shifting your hips to chase friction, but he grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head with one hand, staring at you like he just struck gold.

“you’re gonna cum, aren’t you?” he whispered, breathless. “you’re gonna cum just from that.”

your face was burning. “shut up—”

but he didn’t. of course he didn’t. this was gojo.

“ohhh, no no, now i have to test it,” he grinned, the corner of his mouth twitching with mischief. “you like being praised, baby? does it make that pretty pussy all messy?”

you whimpered as his free hand slid down, thumb circling your clit in slow, teasing strokes.

“you’re doing so good for me. such a good girl—letting me fuck you like this, letting me ruin that smart little college brain. i know you’ve been working hard all week, haven’t you?”

your hips bucked hard.

“ah—there it is,” he laughed, almost mean. “my filthy little overachiever. studying all day just to get ruined by my cock at night.”

his strokes picked up. so did his words.

“so proud of you, baby. so proud of this body—these thighs, this tight little cunt that’s soaking for me. you’re just perfect. my perfect, obedient, desperate girl—”

your orgasm hit like a truck.

you cried out, back arching violently, legs locked around him as your whole body seized beneath him. your walls clamped around his cock so hard it knocked the air out of him, and for once, satoru gojo was left speechless.

“f-fuck—holy shit—”

he collapsed on top of you, still twitching inside, and laughed breathlessly against your neck. “you just came from that,” he murmured, grinning like he just won the lottery. “from me telling you how good you are.”

you were still trembling.

“i’m never shutting the fuck up again,” he whispered, kissing your jaw. “you’re so screwed, baby.”

and he meant that in every way possible.

GETO SUGURU

it was late—past midnight kind of late—and you’d just finished a soul-sucking group project that left you drained, grumpy, and snapping at anyone who looked at you sideways. which is why, when suguru showed up unannounced, you didn’t even question it. you just fell into his chest with a soft sigh, letting him carry you to the bed like he always did when you were too tired to move.

he kissed you like he missed you. slow and deep, tongue gliding past your lips like he had nowhere else to be. you didn’t even realize when he’d slipped your shirt off, or how your panties were already pushed to the side, or how the heat of his cock was nudging at your folds, thick and pulsing.

“tell me to stop,” he murmured against your lips.

you didn’t.

so he sank in slow, the stretch burning just right, your thighs wrapped tight around his waist, your fingers knotted in the strands of his hair still tied back lazily. he hissed through his teeth as he bottomed out.

“fuck, baby—you’re always so tight for me,” he groaned, his pace steady and firm, hips slapping into yours with a controlled rhythm. “even after all this time.”

you bit your lip, already feeling your body light up like a fuse had been lit in your spine. but you didn’t say anything. not yet.

he noticed it right away—how you squeezed around him the moment his voice dropped, all deep and sweet.

his brows lifted, that soft, wicked smile tugging at his lips.

“wait,” he said, rocking into you deeper. “you like that?”

you tried to look away.

“no, no—don’t hide,” he chuckled, catching your jaw and turning your face back to his. “you’re telling me you get off on a little praise?”

you shook your head. a clear lie.

“liar,” he murmured, leaning down to whisper against your lips. “you’re such a good girl for me. always so wet. always so eager to be filled up.”

you gasped—your body jolted—and your cunt squeezed around him so tight it dragged a curse from his throat.

“oh my god,” he laughed, unhinged now. “you’re fucking serious.”

he started fucking into you harder, deeper. his hand slid down your body, resting on your stomach, pressing there so he could feel how deep he was.

“i’m gonna ruin you with this,” he said, gaze dark with something close to awe. “just words, baby? just a few sweet nothings and you’re this close to cumming? fuck—look at you.”

you couldn’t hold back the noises anymore. every time he praised you—every filthy compliment, every soft ‘good girl’—your moans got louder, your legs shook harder, and your nails dug into his arms like you were holding on for dear life.

“such a perfect little thing,” he whispered, face buried in your neck. “taking me so well. doing so good, baby. you’re so beautiful like this—messy, fucked out, desperate.”

your body locked up.

he felt it, smirked, and gripped your hips tighter. “that’s it. cum for me. show me how much you love hearing how proud i am of you.”

and with a shattered whimper, you came. violently. full-body trembling, eyes rolling, breath stuttering as you soaked his cock.

he groaned into your mouth, slowing down just enough to ride you through it, kissing your lips softly like he hadn’t just broken you in half with his voice.

“mmm, my girl’s got the cutest kink,” he murmured, brushing your hair out of your face as you struggled to catch your breath. “you just gave me a fuckin’ god complex.”

you blinked up at him, dazed.

he grinned, leaned down, and whispered, “don’t worry. i’m gonna make you cum every single time i call you my good girl.”

and the worst part? you knew he would.

NANAMI KENTO

you didn’t expect him to show up at your dorm this late. he rarely came over without warning—he was punctual, predictable, always so polite about it. but tonight, something in his voice over the phone had made your stomach twist with anticipation. his “i’m coming over” had been low, firm, and left no room for argument.

so now you were here. back pressed against your desk, your shirt halfway open, your skirt bunched up around your waist, and nanami on his knees in front of you like a man starved. his tie was off, sleeves rolled up, glasses long forgotten on your nightstand, and you were struggling to breathe through the way his tongue moved over you—slow, devastating, focused.

“you’ve had a long week,” he murmured between licks, his voice thick with restraint. “thought i’d help you relax.”

your legs were already shaking, and you barely managed to stutter his name before he stood, towering over you, fingers ghosting over your trembling thighs. you could see it in his face—the slight pink in his cheeks, the tension in his jaw—that he was holding back.

and when he slid inside you?

oh god.

the stretch was perfect, deep, almost too much. you moaned openly, arms wrapping around his neck, eyes fluttering as he started thrusting into you slow and controlled, like he wanted to memorize the way your body reacted to each push.

and then—you clenched around him. tight.

the second he muttered, “you’re doing so well, sweetheart.”

he paused, eyes flicking up to your face. “...was that because of what i said?”

your mouth parted. you hesitated.

he stared for a beat, and then—something in him changed.

“interesting,” he breathed, voice suddenly darker. “so that’s what gets you dripping like this.”

he pulled out halfway, slammed back in, hard enough to knock a choked moan out of you.

“you want to be praised, is that it?” he murmured, brushing his knuckles along your jaw as he fucked you into the desk. “want me to tell you what a good girl you are?”

you whimpered.

he caught your face in his hand, made you look him in the eye. “you’re such a good girl for me. letting me have you like this. always so polite, so obedient—until i get you alone.”

you broke. you fucking broke.

your body went stiff, orgasm ripping through you before you could even warn him, clenching and throbbing so tight around his cock that his next groan sounded almost pained.

“fuck,” he muttered, hips stuttering. “you just came.”

you hid your face in his neck.

he didn’t stop.

he fucked you through it, whispering into your skin, “you did so well, darling. came so beautifully for me. i didn’t even have to touch you.”

and then, very softly: “what a filthy, perfect girl you are.”

you nearly sobbed.

he wrapped his arms around you, lifted you like you weighed nothing, and laid you on the bed—still inside you, still throbbing hard.

“don’t think we’re finished,” he said, sliding out slow, teasing, only to push back in and make you gasp. “not when i’ve just discovered how to ruin you.”

he kissed your forehead, lips soft and reverent.

“i’m going to praise you until you can’t walk tomorrow.”

and knowing him? he meant it.

TOJI FUSHIGURO

you knew what kind of night it was going to be the moment toji showed up at your door, leaning against the frame like he owned the place, shirt already unbuttoned halfway down and a smug glint in his eyes that said trouble. the man had no business looking that good at midnight.

"heard you’ve been stressin’ over your exams," he said, stepping inside without waiting. "figured i’d help you take the edge off."

“oh?” you quipped, cocky—until his hand gripped your throat lightly, tilting your head back just enough for his mouth to meet yours. and like always, he didn’t ease into it. his kiss was tongue and teeth and a little bite to your bottom lip that made your knees weak.

you didn’t even know when your panties came off. or when he bent you over your desk, your cheek pressed against open textbooks and crumpled lecture notes. all you felt was the heavy drag of his cock, thick and slow, sliding inside until you were full—so full you whimpered.

“fuck, always so tight,” he groaned, pressing his chest to your back. “like you’ve been waiting for me.”

he set a brutal rhythm, fucking into you like he was mad, like he missed you, like he needed this. every slap of skin echoed through the room, and your voice broke with every thrust. but then—

“such a good girl,” he muttered, not even thinking. just slipped out like it was instinct.

and your body snapped. you clenched around him hard, nearly choking on your moan.

he paused.

“…no fuckin’ way,” he breathed, pulling your hair to lift your head. “say that again.”

you stayed quiet. trembling.

he slammed back into you so hard your legs buckled.

“nah, princess. don’t hold out on me. you like that, huh? like bein’ called my good girl?”

you whined, breath hitching, face burning.

toji let out the filthiest, cockiest laugh. “holy shit,” he whispered, licking a stripe up the side of your neck. “you’re tellin’ me you cream the second i open my fuckin’ mouth? shit, baby—you’re so easy.”

his hand reached around, rubbing tight circles on your clit. “go ahead then,” he rasped. “cum on my cock. be my good fuckin’ girl.”

and just like that, you shattered.

you came so hard your thighs trembled, knees giving out under you. and toji? he just held you up, praised you through it, voice low and ragged in your ear.

“atta girl… so fuckin’ pretty when you cum. makin’ a mess on me already?”

he flipped you over like you weighed nothing, lifted your leg, and slid right back in.

“oh, we’re not done,” he grinned, breathless now, pupils blown wide. “you think i’m lettin’ this kink go to waste?”

you barely had the strength to answer, still shaking.

he leaned in, kissed you like he was mocking how ruined you looked. “you’re gonna cum for me again,” he promised. “and again. and again. until you’re cryin’ from bein’ called a good girl.”

and you knew—knew—he meant every word.

RYOMEN SUKUNA

it was late—quiet. the kind of silence that presses in on you thick and slow, where even the smallest sound feels amplified. sukuna’s apartment was dimly lit, just the soft, golden glow from the single lamp in the corner casting long shadows over the room.

you were straddling his lap, completely bare, thighs draped over his, your arms loose around his neck. his back rested against the couch, body warm beneath you, and his eyes—those deep, dark red eyes—never left your face. not even when your hips moved. not even when your breath hitched.

he had you seated right where he wanted you, hands gripping your waist, guiding your rhythm—slow, deep, unrelenting.

and you were a mess already.

“look at you,” he muttered, voice a low, amused rumble. “bouncin’ on my cock like you’re made for it.”

your breath stuttered, thighs twitching.

his fingers tightened on your waist just slightly. “you like that, huh? being told you’re good?”

you didn’t answer fast enough, but your body did—your eyes fluttering shut, hips stuttering, your moan nearly breaking apart in your throat.

and that was all he needed.

sukuna leaned in, mouth brushing your ear with a grin that you felt more than saw.

“ohhh. so that’s what this is.”

his tone dipped—taunting, smug. “my little girl gets off when i talk to her nice.”

you squirmed, half-mortified, half turned on beyond saving.

he tilted his head, watching your tits bounce with every needy rock of your hips. then he slipped a hand up, dragging his thumb lazily across your nipple, his other hand gripping your ass tight enough to bruise.

“you want me to keep tellin’ you how perfect you feel?” he whispered, suddenly more serious. his voice still laced with heat, but there was something darker behind it now. possessiveness. awe. “how tight this pussy is, how it sucks me in like it can’t breathe without me?”

your head dropped to his shoulder with a broken whimper.

“fuck—look at you.”

he let out a shaky breath, hips jerking up. “you’re gonna cum already, aren’t you? just from me talkin’?”

you nodded, desperate, babbling nonsense against his skin.

and then he said it—soft, low, raw:

“that’s my good girl.”

you shattered.

back arching, fingers clawing into his shoulders, your entire body went stiff before it trembled against his. you came so hard around him, so violently, it knocked the breath out of you—and sukuna just held you, smirking against your throat, murmuring filth between kisses.

“knew you were filthy for me.”

kiss.

“but this? fuck, baby. that’s dangerous.”

kiss.

“gonna use that mouth of mine to ruin you every night now.”

you didn’t doubt it for a second.

and from that night on, every time his voice dropped just a little, every time he muttered good girl into your ear—you remembered exactly how it felt to lose yourself right there on his lap, under the glow of that lonely little lamp, with praise melting off his tongue like sin.

SHIU KONG

it was supposed to be just a drive. just a night cruise with the windows down and your hand resting lazily on his thigh, music low and city lights flashing by. but shiu had always been the type to snap once something got under his skin—and you? dressed like that, soft thighs bare and eyes teasing him from the passenger seat?

you knew what you were doing.

that’s why you weren’t surprised when he suddenly pulled into some dark, quiet parking lot and killed the engine without a word.

his voice was low, rough when he spoke, hand gripping your chin as he leaned over.

“get in the back. now.”

you didn’t argue.

the car door slammed, and the moment you slid into the backseat, he followed—tall frame looming, heavy with intent. he didn’t give you time to process, to breathe—just pushed you down until your back hit the leather, and his mouth was already on your neck, hands everywhere.

“you always this bratty?” he growled against your skin. “or are you just desperate to get fucked like a little slut?”

your answer was a gasp, knees spreading on instinct. he chuckled low—one hand pushing up your skirt, the other unbuckling his belt in a way that felt both urgent and terrifyingly controlled. he wanted this, but he wanted to savor it.

his fingers slid between your legs, felt the mess there already.

“fuck—this wet already?” his brows twitched, head tilting. “just from me tellin’ you what to do?”

and then, a little slower:

“…do you like that?”

your breath caught in your throat.

“do you get off on being told you’re a good girl?” he murmured, right by your ear now, voice like hot velvet dragging across your spine. “is that what this is?”

you whimpered, body twitching, thighs tightening.

his grin was all sharp teeth and danger.

“well shit. that’s easy, sweetheart.”

he lined himself up, still fully clothed, only his zipper down, and pushed in with one long, slow stroke. you cried out—sensitive, overstimulated, and shiu loved it. he leaned over you, one hand gripping the seat above your head as he began thrusting, rough and deep, the car rocking with every snap of his hips.

“fuck, you feel good like this,” he panted, watching your eyes roll back. “so goddamn tight. takin’ me so well.”

then—he tried it.

soft, breathless, dangerous:

“good girl.”

your whole body clenched.

he stilled.

“…no way.”

he looked down at you, your chest heaving, face flushed, mouth open in a silent moan, your walls fluttering around him just from those two little words.

“you’re fuckin’ kidding,” he breathed, voice shaking. “you’re actually about to cum just from that?”

you nodded, whining—too far gone to be shy.

he groaned, forehead dropping to your shoulder. “oh, i’m gonna ruin you with that.”

and he did.

over and over, thrusting deep, whispering it like it was sacred.

“good girl.”

“such a perfect fuckin’ thing.”

“look at you, clenching around me so sweet just ‘cause i’m praising you.”

he made you cum so hard, you cried—shaking in the back of his car while the windows fogged and your voice echoed against the leather.

and after? when you were still trembling, body boneless under him?

he kissed your cheek, still inside you, and smirked against your skin.

“next time, i’m doing this with the windows down,” he whispered. “wanna see how many people can hear you fall apart when i tell you you’re mine.”

HIROMI HIGURUMA

the city outside was still alive—lights flickering against the windows, muffled car horns somewhere in the distance—but in his office, it was nothing but dim lamps, the soft creak of the floor beneath the blanket he laid out, and the sound of your breathless gasps echoing off his walls.

he was above you. hands planted firm on either side of your head, body stretched long and tense, every muscle in his arms flexing with control as he moved inside you—slow, deep strokes that made your whole body tremble beneath him.

his tie was still on, his shirt half-unbuttoned and sleeves rolled to his elbows. he looked down at you like he was trying to memorize every single twitch of your face, every broken sound you gave him.

“you’re taking me so well,” he murmured, voice rough, reverent. “fuck—you feel incredible.”

and you whimpered.

he paused—just slightly—but his hips didn’t stop.

his brow furrowed, mouth parting as his eyes locked onto your expression.

“…was that it?” he asked softly, his pace slowing, hips dragging almost teasingly deep. “did that do it for you?”

your face was flushed, mouth open, eyes wide—betraying everything.

he let out a low breath of laughter, something between awe and amusement, and leaned down closer, his mouth brushing against your ear.

“oh, you like being told that. don’t you?”

your hands gripped his biceps, nails digging in.

“god, of course you do,” he whispered, hips thrusting again, more deliberate now. “you’re such a good girl for me. lying here, letting me fuck you slow—just like this. perfect.”

your whole body jerked, breath catching. and he felt it—your walls tightening, the tremble of your thighs pulling him in closer.

his voice dropped lower, rougher.

“gonna cum, sweetheart?”

you nodded helplessly.

he smirked—something lazy, dangerous—and dragged his hand down between your bodies, fingers brushing right where you needed them.

“do it. cum for me.”

then, slower—deeper—hot breath against your lips:

“be a good girl and cum for me.”

you broke.

your back arched off the floor, thighs shaking around his waist as your orgasm tore through you—so hard it hit like a wave, full-body and overwhelming. you cried out, clinging to him as your body clenched tight, trembling under his weight.

and higuruma—he didn’t stop. he kissed your temple, dragged his fingers along your cheek, whispered praises while you came undone beneath him.

“you’re so beautiful like this,” he murmured, almost too tender for how deep he was still inside you. “so sweet. you always fall apart for me when i say it, don’t you?”

you nodded again, breathless, dizzy.

his lips curved into something between a smirk and a soft smile, brushing his mouth against your cheek as he pushed his hips in deep again.

“i’m never shutting up again, then,” he said, almost like a vow.

“you’re gonna cum from my voice alone by the time i’m done with you.”

and with the way your body responded—shaking, sensitive, already aching for more—you knew he meant it.

[saigaldoagnostic]

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[dante-mightdie]

sorry feminism (c/w: housewife kink, light smut, light babytrapping)

something about simon or price picking the sleazy, feral party girl as their future wifey. they want to tame you from jäger shots and late nights in sweaty clubs to formula and packing lunches

late nights are now spent cuddled up to your husband, your head on his shoulder as he taps away on his laptop. you’ve come a long way from the night you first met, letting him bend you over in the men’s toilet of some dive bar

had no intention of pulling out and knew exactly what he was doing when you came to him a week later, teary eyes and positive pregnancy tests wrapped up in your bag. slip’s an engagement ring on your finger that night because a baby needs a family, love

your first morning together was spent hungover, greasy takeout shared in their messy bedroom. small, humbly decorated flat that’s cozy enough for two was soon swapped for a big four-bedroom in the english midlands

now your husband awakes to their uniform ironed and hanging on the wardrobe door, steaming hot coffee already on the bedside table. kids all dressed for school and lined up at the “create-your-own-pancake” spread you made for breakfast. lunches all packed with sweet notes and drawn hearts

your husband gets a nudie polaroid in his lunch because old habits die hard for you <3

[fatalism-and-villainy]

There’s a post about how we need more female characters who genuinely care about people but are really bad at caregiving, and honestly that fits Kira Nerys really well. I’m thinking of Starship Down where she’s tasked with looking after Sisko and keeping him conscious when he has a head injury, and she just starts visibly flailing despite making an effort to hold it together. “Listen up…. because there’s going to be a test later” and then trying to keep him alert by droning on about duty rosters because she gets Task-Oriented when things are in dire straits and does not know how to scale things to a more personal level with someone she has a working relationship with.

Like, so much of how she deals with emotionally fraught situations is by getting up and doing something about them (even so far as traveling back in time) or just keeping busy to avoid dwelling on the matter at hand. When her father was dying, her response was to go out and kill some Cardassians about it, and then order another attack upon his death, rather than sit by his bedside. When Bareil died (pre-resurrection via mad scientist noodling) she went right back to work despite Bashir telling her she didn’t have to. It is a trauma mindset from someone who witnessed a lot of death and suffering and had no choice but to pick up and keep moving and keep fighting. And when she has to sit down and really focus on someone else’s vulnerability, it’s very uncomfortable for her. She cares very deeply about the people around her but she’s clumsy about it.

[becertainlust]

INTENSE | Katsuki Bakugo

synopsis: There is no shame in curiosity.

content: smut. shameless smut. mirror sex, multiple orgasm, dumbification, hickies, praising, fingering.

You were tangled up in Katsuki’s sheets, his arm draped possessively over your waist, your head tucked beneath his chin. The room was quiet—only the soft hum of the bedside lamp casting a dim, golden glow against the far wall. It was warm here. Safe. That rare kind of peace that came from being skin-to-skin, every slow breath shared like a secret, every lazy touch a quiet promise.

He was tracing slow, aimless patterns on your bare skin under your shirt, fingertips barely grazing your back, when you spoke.

“…Have you ever thought about doing it in front of a mirror?”

His fingers stopped.

Your heart dropped straight to the floor.

“Wait—never mind.” You winced, pulling the blanket up to your face. “That sounded way weirder out loud.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, brows raised. “What?”

“I was just—” You groaned, burying your face in his chest. “Nothing. Ignore me.”

He huffed. Not annoyed—amused. “Tch. The hell it was.” His fingers curled into your hair, gently tugging to tilt your head back. “You talkin’ about mirror sex?”

You groaned into his chest again, trying to vanish. “Please don’t say it like that.”

He was grinning now. You could hear it in his voice. “Damn, babe. Didn’t know you were into that.”

“I’m not—! I mean. I don’t know if I’m into it.” You peeked up at him, flustered. “I just think about it sometimes. Like… I wonder what it looks like when you touch me. What you see.”

For a moment, he was quiet.

And then, with a soft kiss to your forehead, he eased you onto your back, gazing down at you like you’d just handed him the world.

“I’ll show you,” he murmured. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with wanting to see what I see.”

You were sitting between his thighs now, back against his chest, legs spread open and trembling slightly. The mirror across from the bed reflected everything—your flushed cheeks, your parted lips, the soft roll of your stomach as you breathed hard against his touch. His arm was locked snug around your waist, anchoring you to him, his other hand already sliding under the waistband of your panties.

The first brush of his fingers against your folds made you jolt. His breath hit your ear.

“Fuck,” he groaned, low and reverent. “You’re soaked.”

“Katsuki,” you gasped, hips twitching.

“Look,” he murmured, fingers moving slowly—teasing, testing. “You wanted to know what I see? Look, baby.”

You tried, eyes locking onto the mirror even as yours fluttered half-closed. It was overwhelming. The sight of his fingers curling into you, the way your own mouth parted with each moan. You were flushed all over, chest heaving, body soft and open under his touch.

“You see that?” His voice dropped another octave, thick with desire. “How fuckin’ pretty you look, takin’ my fingers like that?”

Your thighs trembled as he pushed in deeper, his palm pressed flat against your lower belly to hold you steady.

“So sensitive,” he muttered, dragging his thumb across your clit in lazy circles. “Is it the mirror, baby? Or is it just me?”

You couldn’t answer. Not with the way your body was burning—alive under every slow stroke, every word he breathed into your ear.

Then, just when you were balancing on the edge of release, he pulled his fingers away.

You whimpered, hips chasing the heat, but he only chuckled darkly. “Told you. You take what I give you.”

And he gave you a sharp slap between the legs—just enough to sting, to light up every nerve ending. You gasped, back arching against him.

“That’s it,” he growled, dragging his tongue along your neck, nipping just beneath your ear. “You’re mine, yeah? This pretty little body—fuck—it’s mine.”

You barely had time to nod before his fingers were back, sliding inside with an ease that only made it more unbearable. You were too wet, too sensitive—each curl of his fingers felt like it rewired your whole body.

He kept your gaze on the mirror, whispering praises and filth in equal measure, until your body couldn’t take it anymore.

"Katsuki" you whispered, hiding your face in his bicep. Your head light and warm when he sped up the pace the wet sounds drowning out in your moans that you tried to stop, every sound spilling from your lips. You kept calling him like prayer and he'd hum in recognition.

"Why you not looking" He paused his thrust, slipping his fingers, slipping his arm from your face fixing it on the mirror.

He stayed buried in you for a moment, breathing hard against your neck, then slowly pulled out, pressing a final kiss to your shoulder.

“Get up,” he said, voice low but firm. “Off the bed. Now.”

You blinked, still dazed, legs a little shaky. “Katsuki—”

“I said up,” he repeated, smacking your thigh lightly. Not hard, just enough to jolt you back into your body.

You stumbled up, heart pounding, breath uneven. He was already standing behind you, guiding you toward the dresser across the room. The cool air hit your skin, and your body was still humming from how close you'd come.

Once there, he bent you forward over the edge, palms flat against the wood. The surface was cool under your chest, grounding in the most jarring way. You tried to shift your weight, to find balance—but then he stepped closer and pulled your hips back just enough so your feet had to work to stay planted.

And then he did nothing.

No touch. No words. Just stood behind you, letting you feel how empty you were, how exposed.

“Katsuki,” you breathed, glancing at him over your shoulder.

He raised a brow, voice calm. Too calm. “You weren’t lookin’ earlier. What, you get to come whenever you want now? You don’t listen, you don’t get anything.”

You opened your mouth to respond, to plead—but his hand came down, steady on your lower back.

“Don’t move. You hold that position, yeah? You don’t get my help this time.”

And gods, your legs were already trembling. The angle was brutal—your body aching for relief, for something to hold onto—but you obeyed. You stayed just like that: bent over the dresser, weight barely supported by your legs, thighs clenching.

You felt him behind you—close enough that his heat kissed your skin, but still not touching. He watched. You could hear the breath he took, slow and controlled, like this was a test for him too.

“You wanna come that badly?” he finally asked, voice filled with amusement

You nodded quickly. “Yes. Yes, I—Katsuki, please—”

He smirked, but his voice was like ice water. “Then earn it.”

He stepped in behind you, cock heavy against your thigh, and guided the tip to your entrance—just enough to make your breath hitch.

“You want it?” he asked, voice rough but steady.

“Yes,” you whispered, already trying to push back onto him, but he held your hip still.

“Then earn it.”

He slid in slowly, letting you take him inch by inch until you were full and shaking. But instead of thrusting, instead of holding you like before, he reached up and grabbed your face. His palm cupped your jaw, thumb resting beneath your chin as he forced your gaze up toward the mirror.

“You fuck yourself,” he said, lips brushing your ear. “Not gonna carry you through it. You want to come? Then move.”

With his hand still cradling your face, his other arm slid across your lower stomach, keeping you in place but not helping you move. You had no leverage—just your own will to roll your hips, to pull back and push forward, using him the way he told you to.

You started slow, the stretch making your knees weak. You were already tired, body wrung out from the way he teased you earlier. Your thighs trembled with each movement, but you obeyed—watching your reflection as you tried to ride him while standing, your lips parted, breath shaky.

Bakugo watched too, eyes glued to your face in the mirror. Your eyes roll, and a smirk curled at the corner of his mouth.

“Pathetic,” he muttered, voice thick with amusement. “What happened to all that defiance? Now you’re whining and barely movin’. Lazy little thing.”

You whimpered, hips stuttering. “I—I’m trying—”

“Not hard enough,” he growled, grip on your face tightening just enough to make your head tilt further, exposing your throat to his mouth. He dragged his lips down to your neck, biting lightly. “You were real mouthy earlier. What, all it takes is a little work to break you down?”

Your legs buckled slightly, and you let out a soft sob of frustration, the movement stalling.

“heh,” he clicked his tongue. “Always so dramatic.” Then, leaning in, lips against your ear: “But I’ll help you. Just this once.”

And then he gripped your hips hard, pulling you back onto him as he thrust forward, deep and punishing. You gasped, your body jolting forward, only for him to catch you again by the jaw.

“Eyes on the mirror,” he hissed.

Your gaze flicked up just in time to see the next thrust—your mouth dropping open, a broken moan spilling from your lips as your body jolted. The mirror didn’t lie. There was no hiding from it. Not the flush climbing up your neck, not the tears welling in your lashes, not the way your thighs quivered with every punishing roll of his hips.

Bakugo was watching too—his eyes glued to your reflection, hungry, dark, possessive. His jaw was tight, teeth grit like he was holding back from completely ruining you.

“You see that?” he rasped, voice rough with control. “That’s what you wanted, yeah? Wanted to see how you fall apart for me?”

You whimpered something close to a yes, but it barely made it past your lips. Your body was wrung out, caught between pleasure and exhaustion, overstimulated from earlier. But that didn’t stop him.

He reached down, fingertips brushing over your clit again, and your whole body jerked.

“Katsuki—” you gasped, legs shaking. He circled over it oh so slowly but enough for you eyes to roll to a close. He slapped the side of your hip,a soft groan, low, the sound vibrating against your back as he leaned in. “Gotta hold still, baby. Don’t wanna miss the fuckin’ show.”

And god, you were a mess. He made sure of it. Your face—your eyes—looked hazy in the mirror, mouth open, trying to form words but too lost in the feeling. He hadn't even touched you like this before—not with this level of control, like every move was calculated to make you come undone slow.

“You wanted to see what I see?” he breathed against your ear, thrusts getting rougher now. “I see the prettiest fuckin’ girl losin’ her mind ‘cause she can’t take a little attention.”

“A little—” you sob-laughed through a moan. “You call this a little?”

He chuckled darkly, biting at your neck again. “You’re still on your feet, aren’t you?”

That was a blessing and a threat, because a second later he yanked your hips back harder, angling his thrusts deeper—and that was it. Your knees buckled completely. "shit-ah"

“Uh-uh,” he caught you with one arm around your waist, the other sliding under your chest to lift you back up. “You’re not tappin’ out yet. C’mon, baby. Show me how bad you want it.”

You moaned something desperate, reaching back to grab at him, your fingers digging into his forearm just to ground yourself.

“Please—Katsuki, please—I can’t—”

“Yes, you fuckin’ can,” he snapped, voice harsh but not unkind. “You will. You wanna come? Do it looking at me. Do it knowing I’m the only one who gets to see you like this.”

His words crashed over you like a wave, and with a final roll of his hips, stuttering with a soft groan, his dick twitching within your spasming pussy, you shattered. "fuck" he moaned.

Your body convulsed, thighs shaking, muscles locking as your orgasm hit like a lightning strike. Your vision blurred, your cry muffled by the way you bit down on your lip to keep from screaming his name.

Through it all, he held you—steady, unyielding—as he helped ride it out.

“Good girl,” he growled, hips slowing but never stopping. “Fuckin’ beautiful.”

You could barely breathe, slumped against him as he finally pulled out, letting you collapse gently onto the dresser. He rubbed your back in slow circles, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“Next time,” he murmured, voice smug, “you ask me somethin’ like that again, say it with your chest. Don’t go hidin’ in my sheets.” he littered kisses over your back.

You groaned, barely coherent. “m' didn’t know it’d turn into—that…”

He grinned, kissing your temple as he scooped you into his arms. “That was me holding back.”

Now, you lay against him, chest rising and falling in shallow gasps, your skin still buzzing.

“You okay?” he asked softly, voice scratchy with leftover heat.

You nodded, too tired to speak.

He gathered you closer, laying you down gently before grabbing a warm towel and a bottle of water. “Here. Sip it, yeah?”

You obeyed, blinking up at him with glossy eyes. “Thanks.”

He climbed back into bed, pulling the blanket over both of you, cradling you against him. You laid your head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

[websterss]

THE HAND THAT’S FORCED (1) — ROBERT REYNOLDS

SUMMARY: You hadn't meant to get attached to Bob, much less fall in love with him. You hadn't meant for things to slip out right from underneath your grasp. Out of your control, much like Valentina holding your love for one another over your heads.

WARNING(S): angst, a slur, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of death, a bit of a graphic depiction towards the end, Valentina being terrible

WORD COUNT: 2,739

PAIRING: Robert Reynolds (Sentry/The Void) x fem!reader

A/N: Hope you guys like it.

MASTERLIST | PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3

"What is this, Bob?" Yelena was curious as they all watched a new illusion appear before them.

"M-My memories..."

"Whose the girl-"

"J-Just watch." Bob silenced John.

-

"Hi Bob, remember me?" You smile up from your chart.

"You're Y/n." Bob answers.

"Yes, that's me. Would it be alright if I could draw some blood from you today?"

"You're asking." Bob's head remains faced down. You're highly aware of the two former doctors he's turned into shadows right behind you. "The other's never asked..." His brows crease in wonder.

"Well, I...I think we all deserve to be shown some bedside manners. Some respect for our boundaries. You more so than others..." You trail off.

"Do you think you do?" Bob finally raises his head to look at you.

"Do I think I deserve to be shown respect?"

"Mhm."

"I would like to think so."

"Why's that?"

"I haven't given you any reason to believe otherwise. I'm not here to poke and prob you. I don't have ill intentions, Robert."

"Why should I believe you?"

"I like to think we're a bit alike, honestly."

"Alike...you think we're alike?" He releases a dark chuckle.

You nod. "We're both here against our own will." You place the chart beside him. "My reason, albeit in contrast to your own, I'm under contract to see that you succeed in our experiments. Though if I fail...to meet certain requirements." You inhale shakenly. You muster your best smile, though it's far from meeting your eyes. "My family gets killed. So I can't afford to mess up."

"I don't want to be pricked by anyone anymore..." Bob finally admitted.

"I can work around that." You nodded in reassurance. "Needles isn't the only way. There are cotton swabs we could try..."

"But blood is what you need, though, right?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes. Blood samples are more effective for the test we want to conduct."

"You got a knife anywhere or a scalpel?"

"What for?" You tense.

"So you can get your blood sample..."

"Oh, yeah, I do!" You scurry around the room in search of something sharp. You instead find a sewing needle, something you found similar to the needles he didn't want anymore. "There's a needle, but I can step out if you want the scalpel."

"That'll work." He gestures it over.

-

"Where are we going?" You peer over your shoulder as Bob guides you into a broom closet. You hold your breath as heavy boots hurry past the door he shoved you both in. You peer at him in curiosity, in wonder as he strains his ear. "Valetina will have my head if she finds us alone-" You gasp as he cups your face. His lips silenced your worries in a matter of seconds. You sigh into the kiss as he backs you up against the metal storage shelves. You raise your hands to rake them through his locks.

"Bob, we can't stay in here-" You push back slightly, only for him to chase the kiss again.

"Shh-"

"Bob, I'm serious we can't risk this-" Your whisper is muffled by another kiss. You go to protest only to see he was quieting you once more with precaution.

"What do you mean you can't find him? Well, where's Dr. Y/L/N? She was the last one to know about his whereabouts?" You both pull back in time to hear and see Valentina's shadow fall below the door. You hold your breath again. "Well, page her now!" You begin to panic as you reach for the device tucked into your scrubs. Before it could emit its alert tone, you feel Bob reach forward and crush it in his hand. "You're all useless!"

-

You had been a former member of the team of scientists that had run tests and experiments on Bob when the team was only at the beginning of their trial runs.

Heavily emphasized as former, when Valentina viewed your empathy towards the man, incompetent to her wretched morals. Your perspective on your team's ethics and your reluctance to keep sticking needles in his veins had guaranteed you your very own enemy. A target on your back if you didn't comply with her wishes.

Bob had grown fond of your sweet nature, having made a friend out of you during your time spent in the lab. That friendship, though, the closeness you garnered, had cost you, cost him your company.

Valentina proposed access to you if he did what was asked of him. He too fell victim to Valentina's manipulation. What small but significant leverage she dangled over your own heads like dogs. You were his demise, as much as he was yours. But you would ensure the safety of one another, go to certain lengths, of what was asked of you to see each other. Then and only then would she bring you up the tower to see him. And she did for what felt like a month's worth of waiting to see him. Though it wasn't like any of the other times she dragged your cuffed hands towards the top floor. Dragging felt like a misconception; she all but shoved you face down onto the ground before Bob's feet. He knelt, brushing the disheveled locks back behind your ears as your fear-stricken gaze met his bewildered one.

This wasn't like your regular visits.

"Your lip?" Bob pointed out. It was busted.

"Bob, don't listen to her-" He helped you onto your feet before the clock of a gun triggered his fight or flight.

You turned cautiously towards Valentina, who directed the end of her pistol right onto you. Bob shoved you behind him, his hands out before him as though to tame a wild beast, in your case, Valentina, who always felt like the devil incarnate.

"Here's what's gonna happen, you two...I'm gonna send some people your way, Bob, and you are gonna deal with them for me, cause I'm getting real tired of having to put up with them. If you don't comply. I'm gonna shoot her dead. Right here." Valentina grinned, thumping her forehead with the butt of her weapon for her example. "And you'll never see her again. Though to be honest, I should have shot her the second she got attached to you. I'd have shot you too, but this won't do shit I'm afraid." Valentina sighed, tired of over-explaining herself. "You just had to go and let your heart win." Valentina glanced at you over his shoulder. Your face was reminiscent of a lost child, scared. Fearing the unknown. Like, where did your future lie in her hands?

"You broke your contract, you little bitch. What was the one thing I asked of you?"

"To not get-"

"What was that?" Valentina turned her face, cupping a hand behind her ear to mock you. "Oh, that's right, to not get attached, to not make a connection. Now look at you." She feigned a gag of disgust towards you both. "I hope you've been smart enough to keep your legs shut. Otherwise, that's a whole other problem that I don't have time for." Though the faint dread that crossed your face had her paling at the sudden realization. "Oh...you didn't, please tell me you didn't? When would you two have even found the time?"

"What kind of people?" Bob tried to shift her attention to anything else besides you.

"No, now I'm mad. When the hell did that happen? God, you're not pregnant, are you?"

"N-No." You promised.

"Well, good. At least you weren't stupid enough to conceive a baby of destruction. The press would have a field day with this!"

"What people?" Bob asked again.

"You'll know when they come. Let's go!" Valentina gestured for you to come over with the gun.

"I don't get my hour with her?" Bob circled an arm around you to keep you behind him.

"No."

"I've done everything you've asked of me..." Bob pleaded.

"Your lover hasn't. Why don't you tell him what I found out today? It'll help explain your fault for ending up shoved against the ground. Let him in on why I decided to bust your lip open."

"Y/n?" Bob turned to face you, confusion written across his features. Hoping your truth wasn't some form of disloyalty towards him.

"I tried to..." Your gaze averts Valetina's, feeling the water works begin. "I tried outing her plans...to the public, what they've done to you. The public should know of her cruelty. I tried reaching out to a contact of mine, but he was struck down in the air last I heard, going through therapy and training, so I was on my own. V-Valentina broke into my house this morning."

That explained your pajamas. His gaze shifted to your slippers.

"And that is why we are here today. Maybe I will give you your hour, to remind you of the good I do to allow you both to be together, since both of you comply so well." Just as she said this, her phone rang. Her mood shifted into one of ease and joy. "Ah, I've got to take this. You get an hour." She waved you off. As soon as she entered the elevator and the door closed behind her. Bob broke the cuffs, freeing your trembling hands that now circled around his neck to hide yourself in the nape of his neck.

"Hey, hey, you're with me now. She's gone, we have an hour again." Bob hurried you off to his enclosed case that remained open now. The single mattress on the ground welcomed you. Bob pulled you down with him. His lips colliding with yours in a desperate rush. Valentina hadn't let him see you for a month. Sometimes a month expanding into three, and before he knew it, three months had turned into more if he acted out. That solemn year without you had set him off. He was on his best behavior now, desperate to even catch a glimpse of you if Valentina was in good spirits.

Your tears hadn't stopped even if Bob kept wiping them away. Whatever grief you were withholding had broken your resolve. He could feel it in the way you gently ran your hands through his locks. Foreign to your usual wanting grip.

He'd never coax it out of you like Valentina would. He'd wait, and he'd be patient with you-

"I-I'm pregnant." You choked back a sob amid another kiss.

Bob's breath hitched at the sudden confession. His gaze neutralized as he continued to caress your wet cheeks with his thumbs. His only response in the moment was to kiss you sweetly, then lift the hem of your shirt, just enough to place a faint whisper of a kiss against your stomach.

His words of comfort only being. "I don't want her to use it against me if she finds out."

"She won't find out..." Your eyes space out as Bob reaches up to push back your hair. His gaze settles over your cut on your lip before he cups your jaw as he begins his light descent of kisses.

"If she touches you again. I'll raise hell. No one would be safe."

"It should just be Valentina. What does anyone else have to do with it?"

"I don't think I'd be in the right mental capacity to determine whose good and whose bad. I'd be too angry to try to be coaxed out of seeing any good morals in anyone."

"All because Valentina touched me?" Your heart felt overwhelmed by how deeply he felt about your safety. It warmed you as much as it almost concerned you.

"Because she hurt you." Bob's soft gaze hardened.

-

“That’s Y/n. My love.” Bob tilted his head with a smile as he showed the thunderbolts another memory of you. “I haven’t seen her since this day. I’m lucky enough to get any time with her throughout the month. Y-You guys haven’t seen her, have you? Valentina said she would bring her by today, but she hasn’t come.”

Yelena felt like throwing up at his words. If your discarded self, which she saw in the broom closet, wasn’t enough evidence to indicate your demise, then she hated the idea of telling him where you really were even more.

Yelena turned her gaze to close her eyes. The heaviness weighed down with the guilt that tightened in her throat. You poor thing. You only wanted to be with him, nothing more than wanting to see him again and again. You were innocent, a helpless life that Valentina took.

"You don't think she's done something to her, right?" Yelena looks up this time to find his gaze has settled onto her.

Bob's gaze was solemn yet imploring as he searched Yelena's expression for reassurance. His hands clenched involuntarily, a visible sign of his anxiety and concern. Her silence only fueled his unease, making the air around them feel heavy with suspense.

"Valentina wouldn't. She wouldn't go that far, right?" Even as he asks, the lingering doubt in his voice exposes his inner turmoil.

Yelena knew the truth, and the weight of that knowledge pressed upon her conscience. The guilt churned within her, and she wrestled with the difficult task of finding a way to break the news to Bob.

"No..." Yelena finally replied, shaking her head as her voice was soft and filled with hesitation. "I hope not..."

You're a bad liar, you know? Bob’s voice appeared in her mind.

Yelena's heart sank as she heard him breakthrough her mental walls, the weight of her deception settling heavily on her conscience. She knew her lie had been detected, and the realization hit her with a pang of remorse.

I know. Yelena silently admitted, unable to meet his gaze. The weight of guilt threatened to overwhelm her, knowing she couldn't bring herself to reveal the truth to him. I don't know how long she's been there...

Bob's expression shifted, his eyebrows furrowing as he read the guilt in her eyes. He could sense the internal conflict that plagued her conscience, the secrets she was wrestling with. It made his heart ache to witness her torn by the burden of his ignorance.

"You…do you know where she is then?" His words cut through the tension like a knife, his voice a mixture of desperation and urgency.

"Know where who is?" John's confusion was evident in his voice as he looked to Bob for clarification. "No one's said anything?" John and the others looked over to Yelena, who kept looking down at her chipped nail paint.

"He just read my mind...Bob, I'm so sorry, but I found her body in a closet. By the looks of it, it could be the same one you dragged her inside of."

Bob's expression paled as Yelena's words hit him like a ton of bricks. His mind struggled to process the news, the weight of her revelation crashing upon him like a tidal wave.

"W-What...? You're not saying-" His voice trembled as he searched Yelena's face for any indication of falsehood.

"I do think Valentina would go that far, and she has."

Bob's emotions flared, a mixture of anger, despair, and disbelief swirling within him. The revelation that Valentina had gone to such extremes struck a chord deep within him.

"Damn it!" The outburst escaped his lips like a strangled cry, his fist clenched tightly as he struggled to come to terms with the harsh reality. "How?" He stopped to glare at her. "How'd she leave her?"

"Knowing won't change any-"

"Tell me!" Bob's voice rose. An echo of darkness mixed with grief, his emotions on the edge of uncontrollable. He was demanding answers, desperate for anything that could help him piece together your tragedy. “Just tell me.”

"T-There was bruising around her neck-" Yelena shook her head, not wanting to think about the state she found you in. "Her face was beaten..." Yelena's shoulders fell. She shook her head at Bob. "It looked intentional. Like it was done out of spite. If she fought back, I don’t think she stood a chance. I'm so sorry, Bob." Yelena's voice cracked.

Bob's world shattered around him as Yelena's words painted a haunting picture of your fate. He couldn't bear the thought of you gone. His anger flared, mixing with a profound heartache, as he processed the cruelty inflicted upon you.

"Out of spite…" He repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. The thought of someone, particularly Valentina, intentionally causing you such pain made his blood boil.